


Carter Douden

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Series: Random's Fallout OCs [9]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, M/M, Pining, lucas kills some people, not by Lucas or Carter, they are both raiders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: This is a collection of all my stories and ficlets for my OC Carter.
Relationships: Carter Douden (Fallout OC)/Lucas Addinal (Fallout OC), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Random's Fallout OCs [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505954
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. How It Starts (and how it ends)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a few defining moments in Carter and Lucas' relationship. It starts with a chance meeting and it ends more quickly than either would have liked, but in the end this is only one world, one possible ending to their story. Who's to say it has to be their last?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Lucas does not belong to me, and neither does Sally! They belong to [Jornaquinn](https://cheesepuffbar.tumblr.com). I'm so glad I was allowed to pull them into my writing and post them with her permission.

It starts with a voice.

As soon as Carter enters the Combat Zone he’s assaulted with sounds. The loud drone of raiders talking, overlapping conversations leading to a mass of noise louder than a shout. There’s actual shouting from the back of the building, rows of people watching the fight being held on the stage. Louder still, is the sound of glass breaking and jeers as one man decks another in the face, sending him sprawling to the ground only a few steps away from Carter’s feet. 

Then, over all of it, he hears one man’s voice pouring through the speakers, which have been precariously hung from the walls. The sound washes over him, a low drawl, likely a combination of smoking and talking for hours on end. It warms Carter from the inside out, like he swallowed a match, but without the pain.

Without realizing he’s doing it, Carter begins to pick his way towards the crowd gathered at the foot of the stage. He’s halfway there before he comes to, too busy listening to that honeyed voice that crackles through the centuries old speakers. Someone bumps into him, a woman, with tan skin and dark hair. She smells like alcohol, but doesn’t seem like she’s too far gone. Bruises litter her upper arms and there’s a cut above her eyebrow. Carter pegs her as one of the cage fighters. She squeezes his arm in an apology, but he can see danger hidden behind her eyes. On any other day he might have offered to keep her company, but the siren’s call echoes once more and he turns, searching.

His eyes raise up to see a booth above the stage, but all he can make out behind the glass is a shadowed figure, he’s too blinded by the lights illuminating the fight below for him to see anything more. Movement from the stage draws his attention and he watches a man, at least six and a half feet tall, make contact with the jaw of another man, not much shorter, but a lot smaller. The fight is over after that, and the loser has to be carried off.

The voice is quiet and the sounds of the Combat Zone rush in once more, pulling him from the warmth and leaving him shivering. Then the voice asks a question, “anyone up for a challenge? Mr. Muscles here looks like he could use some competition.”

Carter knows he can’t win, his fighting experience is very limited. However, if he goes up on that stage, the voice that drew him in will be forced to notice him. The man whose words alone can stop him in his tracks will be forced to focus on him. The shadows won’t hide him if he steps into the light.

There’s no other volunteers by the time he makes it to the stairs. There’s a ghoul dressed in what passes for a nice suit these days, and the skin on his forehead raises when Carter steps forward. He might not be the smartest wastelander, but he knows that look.  _ You’re gonna get yourself killed, kid. _ He’s seen it a hundred times before, but he’s not dead yet.

The ghoul turns, gives a thumbs up to the mysterious man inside the booth above his head. He can hear the disbelief in the man’s voice as it once more pours from the speakers. “A challenger approaches, place your bets folks. Round starts in two minutes.”

As Carter walks onto the stage a few raiders toss caps into buckets, wagering on his chances. It’s obvious they also know he’s going to get his ass kicked, but it doesn’t bother him. He’s too busy listening to the announcer. The man makes fun of his hair, but it doesn’t sound mean, more like it’s a joke he’s hoping Carter will play along with. Even still, he self-consciously runs his fingers through the messy rat’s nest that rests on his scalp.

Then a bell dings, and a fist flies at his face.

The fight lasts longer than anyone in the room suspects, if the jeers and jests he can hear are anything to go by. But he still winds up on the floor by the end, half a breath away from losing consciousness, the raider he just lost to packs quite the punch.

His ears are ringing when his opponent drags him off the floor and presses him into the metal walls that line the limits of the stage, so he misses anything that the announcer might be saying. He focuses on the way the metal presses into his back, it's cold and he’s so warm. It grounds him, helps his vision stop swimming.

As soon as it focuses he sees his opponent right in his face, one hand clenched in his shirt and the other by the man’s side. Carter is fully expecting another hit, one that will put him down for good, but it doesn’t come. Instead, an offer comes instead, from the man who identifies himself as Liam. He offers to show Carter how to fight, says he sees potential in the smaller man, and the bell sounds once more when he agrees and Liam lets go of his shirt and lets him walk out of the ring, instead of being dragged.

Carter spends the rest of the night at the bar, sipping on equal amounts Nuka Cola and Gwinnett Stout, waiting, listening, getting drunk on his beer and the voice still narrating. When the fights are over and the lights turn off, leaving the Combat Zone as nothing more than a fancy bar, Carter’s pulse ticks up. Immediately, his eyes dart to the door to the announcer’s booth.

The man that exits is just as handsome as his voice is intoxicating.

He’s dark eyes, dark hair, dark skin, all highlighted by the neon lights that shine from the signs on the walls. He smiles at the bar owner, Tommy, and his whole face lights up with it. Carter watches as the man claps the ghoul on the shoulder before turning towards the bar, turning towards Carter. Just before he can cross the threshold a woman appears, and the announcer’s smile widens, his eyes soften even under the harsh lighting, and his posture relaxes.

It takes Carter a few seconds to place the woman, who now has her hand on the man’s arm, leaning into him to speak into his ear so she can be heard over the loudness of the Combat Zone. Who blushes prettily when tall, dark, and handsome drops a kiss to her cheek and then to the top of her head. She’s the woman who ran into him earlier, the one he almost flirted with.

Ironic that the two people he’d try and get with are partnered to each other.

He watches her steer him away from the bar, towards the rear-exit, and what he’s assuming is a shared living space for the both of them. He’s not heart-broke, but the spell that had been looming over him all evening cracks, letting in the not-so-nice-light of the place he’s found himself in.

The air smells like sweat and alcohol, he can’t walk ten feet without stumbling into a brawl, and he’s decently low on money for all the caps he’s put into keeping his buzz going. With the object of his temporary infatuation slipping out of his sight, the reality of the shit-hole he’s in comes crashing down, and he finds that he no longer wants to be conscious enough to be aware of his surroundings.

He’s not scheduled to meet Liam until the morning, but no one he’s seen tonight has caught his attention more than the man he clearly can’t have. Except the woman who was on his arm, who he also can’t have.

His leg throbs as he puts his full weight on it, a trophy from the fight he lost when he offered up his pride on a plate for the opportunity to catch the eye of a man, who he now knows is already taken. Tonight just isn’t his night.

Carter leaves the bar, heading for the crappy hotel shoved into a back room by the stage. He spends what little caps he has left on a room, and passes out as soon as he collapses onto the bed.

He won’t be back to the Combat Zone for years, but he never forgets the man with the honeyed voice and dashing good looks, nor does he forget the woman who looked like she could kill him just as well as she could love him.

-/-/-

It continues with a touch.

Carter, now 25 and less likely to die if he steps into a ring, returns to the Combat Zone ready to prove himself to the raiders he wants to impress. Or more specifically, the raiders with caps to spend betting on him and his fights.

He’s already come in and tried out in front of the bar owner, still Tommy the ghoul after all these years, and has a set schedule- which starts tonight. But it’s early still, the sun is high in the sky and the raiders who frequent this bar are either still sleeping off their hangovers from the night before or out drowning in the blood of their next victims. So, Carter has some downtime. He spends it looking for a better place to sleep than the ramshackled and hastily thrown together back room full of mattresses. All of which are covered in mysterious fluids that he does not want to analyze any further.

Across the street is an old apartment building, dilapidated and half crumbled, but with enough rooms with four walls to still function. He nabs a room on the third floor, solidifying it as his with a few hundred caps to the raider boss back on the first floor. Discounted since he’s officially a fighter at the CZ. How kind of them.

He doesn’t own much, a few guns, a couple outfits, and a whole slew of junk. After some searching he digs out a lock with two keys. One goes in his pocket, the other back in his pack. The lock fits pretty well on the door handle, securing it enough that Carter will be able to tell if someone broke in, and, satisfied that no one will touch his things, he heads back to the bar.

He’s turning off the stairwells onto the first floor when he slams right into someone trying to go upstairs. Not wanting to get stabbed his first night, Carter stumbles out apologies and steps back, giving whoever he ran into some space.

Then, a voice from the past says, “you’re good kid, don’t worry.” He looks up into dark eyes and feels his breath catch. There’s no way… it can’t be the same man.

The gentleman in question has paused himself, looking Carter over. “You look familiar…” he trails off, looking Carter up and down, before his eyes land on the top of his head. “You’re that kid from a few years back, still haven’t found a hairbrush have you?”

Carter’s voice is trapped in his throat, shock holding onto it with a death grip. He manages to shake his head side to side a few times.

“I’m Lucas, I’ve been the radio announcer for years, but I never forget a fighter. Even one who goes down in the first round.”

Somehow, fighting past his nerves, Carter manages to shake his hand and squeak out his own name. Lucas’ hands are rough with calluses, but soft on the palms. He starts to sweat. Lucas is just as handsome as he was all those years ago and he wonders if he’s still with that girl. They drop the handshake and Carter wishes he could just have another few seconds of contact.

“Carter? You’re the one Tommy just signed on,” Lucas grins and lifts his hand to ruffle Carter’s hair, “good luck out there. Hate to see you knocked out your first fight, again.” A shiver runs down Carter’s spine as Lucas’ nails scratch gently over his scalp.

And with that he’s gone, up the stairs and out of sight. There’s more than just pride that’s going to motivate Carter tonight.

-/-/-

It continues with a drink.

A drinking glass clinks on the wooden bar in front of Carter, spilling what smells like whiskey over the side and onto his hand. Knowing better than to start a fight, especially considering he can hardly stand since he got his ass handed to him in the ring, he simply wipes his hand on his jeans and looks at who invaded his space from the corner of his eye.

He only has a minor heart attack when he sees it’s Lucas, the announcer.

“Here, you look like you could use this.”

Carter takes the drink carefully, taking a sip and wincing against the bitter taste of the strong alcohol. He doesn’t know what to say. He settles for ‘thank you’ and that rewards him with a warm smile. It makes his heart tick up.

“You’re getting better, you know?” Lucas leans into Carter’s personal space to look over his injuries. “A few weeks ago and that kind of fight would have knocked you out. But you held your own. Good job.” This close Carter can smell Lucas- whiskey and leather. It’s intoxicating.

“I still lost.”

Another smile and Lucas steals his offering back to take a deep drink. The now empty glass echoes loudly when it hits the wooden bar and what passes for a bartender around the Combat Zone fills the cup right away. Lucas slides it back to Carter, who takes another small sip and fails to hide his aversion.

“Not a big whiskey fan?”

“Prefer beer, but I won’t turn down a free drink.”

Suddenly, Lucas’ eyes turn predatory and Carter shivers- in fear and arousal. His honey dipped voice only makes his question more intense. “Who says it’s free?”

Somehow, Carter manages not to stutter his reply. “What do I owe?” His pulse pounds in anticipation. He hasn’t seen the woman from before, the one who Lucas kissed and looked at with love and admiration- Sally he thinks her name was- and it fills him with hope. Hope that maybe Lucas is about to offer him something he’s been craving for years.

Lucas smiles wider, exposing teeth that Carter imagines at his throat. “To be determined. See you later, Carter.”

As soon as he’s gone, Carter swallows the rest of the whiskey. No reason to owe a man something and not take what he was offered in return. It burns on the way down, but it leaves him warm. It’s an empty warmth, Carter knows this. But he’s going home, alone, to sleep in a bed that never feels quite warm enough.

So he’ll take the lie, let it heat him for a few minutes, and pretend that real warmth waits for him at home. Warmth that will manifest in dark skin, dark eyes, and a voice like a lullaby.

-/-/-

It continues with a hand on his face.

“Carter, can you hear me?” The voice is familiar, but muddied, like he’s hearing it through a wall. Still, it makes him feel safe, cared for. It repeats his name and then hands are lifting him off of the cold, wet ground. “Fuck, Carter, answer me.”

His eyes flutter open, light pours in and he closes them again. It’s too bright. His head pounds, his body aches. The raiders that beat him weren’t trying to kill him, if that was their intention he would be dead. Four on one is way too many, and even Carter’s not stupid enough to think he could take them on. So he let them hit him, kick him, toss him into the floor and spit words like venom.

“Piece of shit, cost me caps.”

“Why didn’t you just stay down, fucker?”

“Next time you cost me a bet, I’ll gut you.”

“Take his earnings, that’ll cover some of it.”

He had just won his first fight, surprising everyone in the Combat Zone, himself included. High on victory he had been careless, failed to see the men as they followed him outside, didn’t realize the danger he was in until it was too late. He was already limping from his fight, and they overpowered him easily. When they stopped hurting him, he thought it was over. And then they started talking again.

“Fucker cost me money, but he ain’t bad to look at. Even beat to hell.”

“Think pretty boy here could make up for our lost caps?”

“Ain’t like he’s got much of a choice.”

“Been wanting to get my hands on him for a while.”

Carter went to move, to run, to actually fight back, and one of them picked him up by his throat and slammed him into the wall. From there his vision blurred and his breath left him. They had his shirt cut off and were moving to undress the rest of him when a shotgun had blasted. Carter knew it missed him, but with his eyes still closed, and his mind still foggy, he couldn’t tell if it was someone here to save him. Or just put him out of his misery.

Then the whiskey dark voice had called out- threatening the raiders and firing off another shot. It grounded him, the footsteps he could hear running away. Then his name, whispered like a prayer.

“Carter.”

He opens his eyes again, and this time a body keeps the light from blinding him.

“Hnng..” he tries to speak but can’t manage words. His head hurts. His vision continues to swim but it’s steadier, and details come into focus. Familiar eyes, filled with concern and fear, look down at him. “Lucas?”

“Shit, I’m gonna get you out of here. Do you understand?”

“I can’t..” Carter doesn’t, can't process the words. Something cool presses against his cheek, and he relishes the touch in his overheated skin. He’s aware enough to know that it’s Lucas’ hand, and he draws strength from the gentle touch.

“Can you stand?” He shakes his head, and the dizziness returns. “That’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” He loses consciousness as Lucas lifts him, only awake long enough to see two dead raiders, with bullet spray across their chests at Lucas’ feet, and then he’s out.

-/-/-

It continues with a walk.

Lucas starts escorting him home. Then, when he gets sick of trekking all the way down the street to Carter’s apartment, he starts letting Carter stay with him.

Weeks pass as the two grow closer and Carter’s heart soars with it. Feelings that started as infatuation and “puppy love” developed and grow, evolve into something more real, more solid. No longer does he feel intimidated by Lucas’ larger-than-life persona, but instead he grows nervous that his feelings are obvious to the older man.

With his feelings come insecurities. Carter remembers the beautiful and strong woman that Lucas had been with. Sally. Remembers how his eyes had lit up with love when he saw her, and how she had softened under his gaze. He had been gone for years, but he hasn’t seen her since his return, and Lucas had offered up no explanation.

One night, after another rough fight that had him leaning on Lucas for support, the questions became too much, and he wakes desperate for answers. If Lucas was still with Sally, he needed to let these feelings go. As much as he wanted to be able to call Lucas his, Sally held love for Lucas, and he didn’t want to come between that. But if she was gone… then maybe Lucas’ support was more than friendship.

“Hey Lucas, can I ask you something?” It’s late, or early depending on how one was to look at it, but Carter knows he’s not the only one awake. Lucas doesn’t sleep well often and his breath hasn’t yet settled into the deep and constant pace that it usually takes on when the older man finally manages to knock out for the night.

“Course you can. What’s up?”

Just breaking the silence took most of Carter’s bravery and he stumbles for a moment. “I was just wondering- see the first time I was here- there was this girl… ah hell.” Carter sits up, letting their shared blanket fall off of him as he rotates towards Lucas. “There was a girl you were dating or at least fucking, I think her name was Sally- are you still seeing her?”

For a long moment neither of them speak, Lucas maintains eye contact but he seems far away, like he’s remembering something he’s tried very hard not to think about.

“Short answer is no. Long answer? I think I still love her, but she won’t have me. For good reason, I wasn’t…” Lucas pauses with a sigh that sounds resigned, “I wasn’t good for her or to her. She deserves a lot better than me. As far as I know she’s never coming back here. Why do you ask?”

Carter wants to tell him that he asked so that he wouldn’t be a home-wrecker, that if Sally was still in the picture that he was going to need some time to distance himself from whatever was building between the two of them. He wants to admit to Lucas that he’s been wanting to be more than the older man’s friend and drinking buddy. But the moment feels wrong.

“I just figured if she hung around you that I might have liked her. Can never have too many friends, right?” He shrugs and lays back down, stares at the off white and brown ceiling to keep from dwelling on the answer he just received.

Knowing that Sally is out of the picture brings relief, and he finds himself calm enough to start to drift off. Right before sleep consumes him he hears Lucas mutter something to himself.

“They would have liked each other.”

-/-/-

It ends with a kiss.

Carter has just finished his set, and is about to head to the bar, when Lucas’ voice rings out in confusion and… panic?

“Who’s that? They’re not supposed to be here.” He has just enough time to turn and see some chick in a vault suit raise her shotgun before all hell breaks loose.

There’s gunfire and shouting and screaming, and all Carter can think about is getting up the stairs to the announcer’s box. But there’s too many fucking people chemed up and drunk trying to shoot their weapons at one fucking woman, and they’re making it impossible for him to navigate properly and efficiently. He ducks behind a counter as the woman attacking them launches a Molotov.

The fire spreads quickly, and the flames lick at his heels as he maneuvers around the counter, trying to escape. The woman has two friends with her and they’re mowing down raiders left and right with little to no effort, helped by the fact that most of them are too intoxicated to properly fight back.

An explosion sounds from his left so he takes off right, trying to keep as much cover between him and the fighting as possible. Carter’s not ashamed to be running away, he’d much prefer to live than attempt to take out the third armed and clearly skilled attackers wreaking havoc on the place he’s come to think of as a home over the last half a year or so.

When he finally makes it to the front of the room, near the stairs, he runs into a problem. Standing between him and Lucas is a mass of fire that’s quickly spreading across the stage and up the walls. Smoke is filling the room, choking him and stinging his eyes. The radio speakers on the walls are wailing with a feedback noise that’s just off-pitched enough to make his teeth grind.

Somehow he manages to find an open area, free of fire and smoke, and quickly he rushes up the stairs, tossing open the door to the radio room as he goes.

“Lucas?” He coughs around the smoke building in his lung and squints through the pain as he searches the small room. Lucas is nowhere to be found. Realizing that his friend must have already escaped, Carter turns to make his own escape. He’s halfway down the stairs when he hears his name.

When he looks up he sees Lucas standing near the back wall, waving for his attention. “Carter, hurry, there’s an exit over here!” Carter nods and then starts to run, but halfway down the stairs he hears a scream from beneath him and he glances down just in time to see a frag grenade soar in a perfect arc and come to rest just beneath the wooden stairs.

He has no time to move. He doesn’t even feel the explosion.

What he does feel is the fall as the stairs crumble beneath him dropping him several feet onto the splintered wood below. He certainly feels his head bounce off the floor, but after that his vision whites and he can’t really feel much else. Nor can he hear anything except for a high pitched ringing and his own gasps of pain.

As the ringing fades however, he hears a familiar sound. Lucas’ voice, the same one that drew him to the Combat Zone in the first place, and it’s saying his name. Blearily he opens his eyes, sees Lucas’ concerned face as he reaches down to help him up.

And then he’s laughing, deliriously so.

“We gotta- we gotta stop meeting like this.” Carter can’t remember why he’s on the ground, and Lucas is looking at him like he’s not okay. Which is crazy because he feels fine, just a little tired.

“Carter, I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

“Where are we going?” Lucas stops pulling at his arm and freezes, doesn’t answer Carter’s question. “Lucas, where are we going?” He still feels giggly, but the horror on Lucas’ face sends a cold tendril of dread across his body, settling across him like an icy blanket. Shocking him back into sobering clarity. “What’s wrong?”

“Carter… I’m so sorry.”

He follows his friend’s eyes down, across his own body, until he sees just what it is that’s making Lucas act so strange.

There, right through his stomach, is a metal rod. It’s part of the cage they keep around the fighting pits. Sharp and jagged, and there’s no way Lucas could possibly remove it without killing him. Except leaving it in means he’ll die anyways. They don’t have the time to debate either, the fire is only growing larger, there’s still plenty of shooting and fighting going on, and the building has been shaking with every explosion.

If Lucas doesn’t leave soon, they’ll both die.

“It’s okay.” And funnily enough, it is. Carter doesn’t feel fear and even the pain is fading, leaving behind a warmth of acceptance. “You need to go.”

“I won’t leave you here.” Lucas’ hand finds his own and Carter squeezes it hard.

Carter’s tongue feels heavy, but he manages to smile. “You have to, please don’t throw away your life Lucas. I’m not making it out of here alive.”

“How can you-” as Lucas chokes on his own question Carter finally notices the tears pooling in his friend’s eyes, “how can you just accept this?”

Carter shrugs, or at least he thinks he does, a numbness has crept over his limbs. More of the staircase collapses next to them, covering them in dust and ash. They don’t have time for this conversation, but he knows this is his last chance to really tell Lucas how he feels.

“I’ve been in love with you since I first heard your voice.” Lucas’ eyes widen just enough for it to be funny, and Carter would laugh if he wasn’t struggling to breathe. “I only fought that day so that you would be forced to notice me.”

“Carter-”

“I’m asking you to go, Lucas, I’m asking you to leave me.”

“Carter-”

“Lucas. Go.”

Acceptance flashes quick across his face, looking odd as it contrasts with the tears that have begun to fall. “You know I love you, too.”

A small nod of his head is all Carter can manage. He can just barely register Lucas as he shuffles to stand, pulling out from Carter’s handhold. Then, his callouses fingers are sliding against Carter’s jaw, tilting his head ever so gently to the side. He smells Lucas’ leather and whiskey scent over the smoke and ash. He’s not really sure what’s happening when Lucas leans in closer than ever before, not until he feels the soft press of lips against his own. He has no strength to return the kiss, but it’s over too quickly for any reciprocation anyways.

Carter finds it odd that Lucas doesn’t taste sweet, that his honeyed words don’t drip their taste onto his tongue. Instead he swears he can taste whiskey, mellowed like it’s never been fresh from the bottle, and Carter wishes he could taste it again.

But then Lucas pulls back, face full of sadness and love, and Carter knows he’s going to leave. That Lucas will listen to him for what may be the first time ever. With this realization, his eyes fall shut without his permission, too tired to keep them open.

“Goodbye, Carter.”

And then Lucas is gone.

As he lies there he thinks about their relationship, and can’t help but find some things funny. Like how the first and last time Lucas and him saw each other was on this same stage. Or that the first and last thing that Carter knows about Lucas is the sound of his voice. Or how fighting brought them together and then tore them apart.

It’s not long after that that Carter takes his last breath, with the ringing memory of Lucas’ low drawl in his ear and the phantom press of his lips against his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked feel free to leave a kudo, a comment, and check out my other fics on my Works page.
> 
> If you really like it! Come say hi at my [Tumblr](https://randomwordsandstormydays.tumblr.com/). I love asks about Fallout and/or my fics, so don't be afraid to swing by.


	2. How Carter Feels About Lucas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another universe with Carter and Lucas. This time? Sally doesn't leave, and Carter still has feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a short drabble I had in my google docs. I saw people liked Carter and Lucas and wanted to give you guys a little more.

Carter doesn’t know how he feels about Lucas. Okay, maybe that’s a lie. A better statement should probably be: Carter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about Lucas. But that one isn’t quite right either. Carter mostly feels like an asshole.

From the outside looking in he’s pretty sure that the world around them sees friends, probably best friends. They share inside jokes, tease each other, drink together, protect each other. But a friend isn’t supposed to cause a flutter in his stomach when he hears their voice. A friend shouldn’t make him second guess every touch or every spoken word. He’s not supposed to want to kiss a friend.

So, yes he knows how he feels. He knows what he wants. He wants the squeeze on his shoulder to transform into a tug that pulls their bodies together. Desperately, he wants the hand on his cheek to segway into a kiss. Lucas’ mouth has always been sharp and witty, and he wants to know what hidden talents lay beyond those chapped lips.

There’s no one Carter has craved more than him. But it’s not just feelings of desire that Carter has been feeling.

Lucas has been there for him since the moment they met, and slowly his presence has allowed trust to bloom between them. Never once has Lucas ever called Carter stupid or dumb, although sometimes he’s convinced that he falls right into those categories. In fact, often times Lucas will compliment his talents, his ability to read a person and know them better than they know themselves, or his knack for taking things apart and putting them back together. Everything between them is easy, easier than it’s ever been with anyone else.

He also knows how he’s supposed to feel. Nothing but a sense of mutual respect and friendship, that’s the reaction he’s supposed to feel when Lucas walks into a room. Not pure giddiness and want. Because Lucas has a girlfriend. Her name is Sally, and they met in a very similar manner to how Lucas met him, but that’s a story for another time.

The problem that arises is that Carter likes Sally, respects her, looks up to her. She’s strong, able to take down opponents twice her size. Capable, she wouldn’t have survived what she has without being competent. Never once has she looked down on him because he got his ass kicked in the ring. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t tease him for it, but she has always followed her banter with a tip or trick on how to do better.

Carter can tell they love each other, and that’s why he feels like an asshole. He can feel himself falling for Lucas, his charming wit, his gorgeous face, his easy-going personality, and sometimes, he can see Lucas start to reciprocate. Or at least he thinks he can. And that tears him apart. Because he wants, desires, craves, but once those feelings come to his conscious thought he’s flooded with guilt. He savors every smile and touch, but feels sick when it looks like Lucas might want more. He doesn’t want to come between Lucas and Sally, but god does it hurt to see them together.

Carter knows that he did this to himself, Lucas never tried to hide his relationship or purposefully tried to lead him on. His traitorous body and brain just decided to take innocent gestures and phrases and warp them into flirting. Lucas doesn’t want him, right? Anything that looked like reciprocation of his feelings must all be made up in his head. He can’t compete with Sally. Lucas and her have been together too long, they love each other too much. Carter’s just some kid from the Combat Zone, wet behind the ears and too broke to turn his hobbies into something that could actually make him caps.

But sometimes… sometimes Lucas will look at him and he can almost feel the air crackle with electricity from the hidden feelings he can read behind the other man’s eyes. On more than a few occasions a touch will last longer than necessary or Lucas will lean into him, like all he wants in the world is to be closer. Carter knows he should stop, should put distance between them that draws a line firmly in the sand. One that reads “we’re just friends”. Besides, even if Lucas feels… something for him, in the end it would come down to him versus Sally, and he knows that that’s not something he’ll win. He doesn’t even think he wants to win, he doesn’t want to be a homewrecker.

Or does he?

So, yeah, Carter just feels like an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you liked, I'm trying to get back into writing fic so we'll see if there's more Carter content in the future.


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